5 June 1380 S.R.

In the following weeks, Frodo and Sam had fallen into an easy routine:
First Sam would help out his father with the gardening work and would be
occupied with this until after lunch. Then Hamfast would dismiss his son
for the rest of the day so that he could spend time with Frodo playing
or whatever it was the lads did everyday.

On this particular day in the late summer, Sam reluctantly had to inform
Frodo that he would be more than an hour later in being dismissed from
his work in the gardens. And so after he returned from running an errand
for his mother into Hobbiton to buy some spices she wanted for meat pie
she was making, Frodo ventured into Bilbo's study.

Bilbo looked up from the parchment he was carefully writing on and offered
his glum nephew a smile. 'Sam can't spend time with you today, my boy?'

Frodo shook his head; 'He told me he'd have to help his father in the
garden today for an extra hour, maybe two.'

'I see,' said Bilbo, noting that Frodo was circling his study. He allowed
for a minute of silence before he spoke again. 'Frodo-lad, are you searching
for something to do? If so I could ask Primula if she needs you -'

Frodo's eyes widened, and vehemently shaking his head, 'Oh no, uncle,
I was - just going to ask you if there's some places in Hobbiton to go
swimming.'

'Oh I think there are some brooks and streams here and there. But there's
nothing so grand as the Brandywine to be found here. Why don't you ask
Sam to take you to some of them after he's finished with his father?'

Frodo nodded, 'Good idea.'

Bilbo halfway returned his attention to the parchment before him, noting
with much amusement that Frodo was still in the room, giving his selection
of books a once over, followed closely by a twice and third look over.
Putting down his quill again, Bilbo turned to Frodo fully, an amused smile
lighting his features.

'Frodo would you like a book to take outside with you to read?' he asked,
startling the youngster out of his distracted thoughts.

Frodo looked at him, 'May I?'

'Of course, my boy. You may take any book in this room with you as long
as you return it when you come back inside. And,' Bilbo pointed to a shelf
in the study's right corner, 'As long as you don't take any books from
that shelf.'

'Why?'

Bilbo got up from his chair and walked over to where Frodo was standing,
laying a hand on his shoulder as he spoke, 'Well because most of those
books are on loan to me by Lord Elrond of Rivendell.'

Frodo's eyes widened. 'Oh.'

'Yes, oh indeed, Frodo. Lord Elrond is letting me borrow them for a
little while so I can translate their text from Elvish into our language
so that ordinary hobbits will be able to read them.' Bilbo explained. 'Now,
my lad, let's find you a book to read so I can get back to my translations!'

***

Frodo had finally settled on a book of ancient tales about the lost
island of Númenór. He went outside, walking to a small grove
of trees that Sam had shown him on the first day they'd spent together.

Sam had brought him to this place, calling it his quiet place.
This place, he said, was the place he went to escape the noise created
by his older brother, his two younger sisters and his new baby brother
who had been born in the early spring.

Sam's quiet place was beautiful with grass so soft
that you could lay down on it for a nap, and it'd be no time before you'd
be snoring softly. Five oak trees provided the grove with sufficient shade
from the Sun. Also there was a small brook running in the grove's northern
side but it was to small for the swimming Frodo had hopes of doing soon.

Sitting down on the largest oak of the grove he opened his book, soon
finding himself absorbed the tales of the ancient Númenórean
Kings.

***

Two hours had passed when Sam made his way into the grove carrying a
basket laden with food. Frodo was still so absorbed in his reading that
he did not hear his friend's approach, and so Sam cleared his throat. Frodo
looked up, mildly startled at the noise and then a puzzled expression crossed
his face.

'Has it been two hours already?' he said.

Sam plopped down beside him on the grass, 'Just about, Mr. Frodo,' He
patted the food basket, 'Yer mum sent this so we could have tea here instead
of having to back all the way to Bag End for it.'

'Splendid!' said Frodo, 'Let me just mark my place and then we shall
take our tea a bit early.' He carefully placed the attached blue ribbon
in-between the pages, and shutting the book he laid it on the ground beside
him.

Frodo stood to help Sam spread blanket that had sent along with the
food. He retrieved his book from the ground; a sitting down again as Sam
began pulling out the various foods, treats, and drink from the basket
Primula had prepared.

For a time they ate in silence, each enjoying the quiet of Sam's grove,
and the sound of the birds singing in the trees. Not long after they finished
the mini feast of mushrooms, tarts, fruit, and cider Sam rose stretching.

'If you don't mind, Mr. Frodo, I think I shall see whereabouts I'd like
to put my garden,' he said.

Stifling a yawn, Frodo looked up at his friend in interest, 'What's
that? A garden you say?'

Sam nodded. 'Here in the grove?'

'Aye, my Gaffer says I can have one as long as I kept up with my work
at Bag End and at home. And I've been thinking about where I'd be wanting
to have one. I finally decided against havin' one at home seeing as I can
never get any peace from my sisters whenever I'm there. I figured the grove
is just as good a place start a garden of my own as anywhere else.'

'Will the plants get enough sunlight to thrive here?' Frodo asked unsure
of Sam's intentions.

Sam nodded, 'Aye, I am thinking they will if I plant on the far side
of the brook - seein', as it's not wide and all. It'll help me keep the
garden properly watered with it so close by.'

Frodo thought for a moment, and after finally realizing that his friend
was the gardener and he wasn't, he nodded before he picked up his book
again to read. Silence reigned over the grove as Frodo resumed his reading
while Sam began to mentally plan out his garden.

Twenty minutes passed had when Frodo heard Sam's voice, 'Mr. Frodo,
are you all right?'

Frodo blushed in embarrassment at having Sam catch him wiping away his
tears. He looked up at Sam, 'Aye, Sam, I'm fine. I was just reading the
account of the Fall of Númenór - it's a very sad tale, and
sometimes I get caught up in what I am reading about. Does that every happen
to you while you're reading?'

Sam had rejoined him on the blanket. 'Is that what your book is about,
Mr. Frodo? About Númenór?'

Frodo nodded, 'It is. Does the history of the world interest you, Sam?'

Sam shrugged, 'I've never had much use for studyin' the history of the
world aboard, Mr. Frodo.'

'Well, Sam, why don't you try reading a selection or two from this book.
You might be surprised by just how much you're interested in it.'

'I don't think so, Mr. Frodo.'

Frodo attempted to hand him the book, and when Sam refused it, Frodo
sighed, 'Oh well then you shall never know which King of Númenór
looked like an Elf.'

Sam looked at him stung, finally rising to his feet; 'I can't read!
I never learned how!' Then ashamed at his outburst, Sam ran off towards
home, leaving a stunned, silent Frodo in his wake.

***

As many readers have noted in the last few chapters, this story is taking
a different road than what J.R.R. Tolkien established for the dear characters
we all love and cherish. For example, in this story, Sam is the second
oldest of the Gamgee children instead of being the second youngest. In
order for this story to work I needed Sam to be nearly the same age as
Frodo and so I switched Sam's birth order with that of his brother Halfred.

I also will probably be changing a bit more canon where Sam is concerned,
especially in this next chapter when Frodo approaches Sam about wanting
to teach him how to read and write whereas in THE LORD OF THE RINGS we
know it was Bilbo who taught him how to read:

"Mr. Bilbo has learned him (Sam) his letters -- meaning no harm, mark
you, and I hope no harm will come of it." -- The Gaffer, FOTR, A Long-Expected
Party

Anyway, back to the story!

**

7 June 1380 S.R.

Frodo had watched for Sam so that he could speak to him the morning
after the incident in the grove. He tried to wait patiently for Sam's arrival
but when Hamfast arrived alone for work the next morning, Frodo learned
that Sam had awakened feeling poorly that morning, so upon the advice of
Mrs. Gamgee, the Gaffer had allowed his son to stay home from work that
day.

Now a new morning came and after he'd finished breakfast, Frodo went
out into the garden hoping to catch the sight of Sam somewhere. He soon
found Sam working along beside is father, weeding a flowerbed, both so
absorbed in their work that neither noticed Frodo's approach. Frodo cleared
his throat, hoping that he wouldn't startle either of them too badly, and
immediately Hamfast looked up.

'Oh, good morning to you, young master!' he said.

'Good morning, Mr. Gamgee, Sam, the Sun seems to be shining her light
finely on this day.'

'Oh, that she is, Mr. Frodo. That she is," the Gaffer replied before
he yanked out another weed. He soon noticed that Frodo was not making any
movements to leave them alone at their work. 'Uh, is there something we
can do for ye, young master?'

'Actually, Mr. Gamgee, I was hoping a might a private word with Sam
here, if you can spare him for a moment. I promise I won't keep him long,'
Frodo said.

'Of course, young master,' Hamfast replied.

Not wanting Hamfast to overhear their conversation, Frodo walked to
the other end of the garden and sitting down on a bench, he waited for
Sam to join him there. Sam, for his part looked uncomfortable as he took
the place beside Frodo and before he could say a word, Sam was spouting
out an apology.

'I'm sorry about what happened in the grove, Mr. Frodo. I shouldn't
have yelled at you like I did.'

'It's all right, Sam, I didn't call you out here to get an apology,'
Frodo began, 'I called you out here because, well I wanted to ask you if
you would like me to teach you how to read.'

'Me? Learn how to read?' Sam said. 'O Mr. Frodo, I would love to learn
how but my parents would never approve of it, seein' as it is a frivolous
thing for a future gardener to learn how to do. I mean it can't very well
help me or my Gaffer do the work here in Mr. Bilbo's garden. Thank you
for the kind offer, Mr. Frodo, but no I can't be accepting it.'

'Are you sure, Sam? I mean I'm not an expert or anything but I believe
that someone somewhere has written a book or two on gardening. In fact
I am quite sure Uncle Bilbo has such a book in his collection somewhere
around Bag End,' Frodo said, watching Sam.

Sam was a bit flustered at this and said, 'I don't know, Mr. Frodo -'

'If you want to learn how to read, we can begin with the gardening book
or whatever book you like after I teach you your letters,' Frodo stated.
'Come on, Sam, it's easy to learn and you never know how being able to
read will come in handy in the future.'

Sam let out a sigh. 'Oh, all right then. I'll try to learn but we'd
better not let my parents hear one word about this.'

Frodo smiled. 'If you think that's best.'

'I do.'

***

28 June 1380 S.R

It had only been three weeks since Sam begun to learn how to read from
Frodo and already Frodo was seeing what he thought was amazing progress.
Under the older lad's tutelage, Sam had memorized the alphabet and had
begun to learn simple words such as tree, flower, weed,
garden, etc.

Everyday, after they had finished each lesson, Frodo would read in part
or in their entirety, stories about the Elves. As Frodo read, Sam would
work nearby on the patch of earth he had hopes of making into his very
own garden.

It was late on one such afternoon that Frodo closed the book he had
been reading aloud the Tale of Eärendil the Mariner who sailed
into the West to seek the aid of the Valar to fight the Dark Lord Morgoth.
Sighing Frodo finished the story, closing the book he laid on the ground
beside him. Sam looked up from where he had been hoeing the ground in preparation
for the planting of seeds.

Wiping his brow with the back of his hand, Sam looked at Frodo, 'Do
you have any Elvish poetry you could read, Mr. Frodo?'

Frodo looked up towards the sky as the reason he had stopped was because
it was fast becoming dark as though a storm was a brewing. 'I think we've
done enough reading for the day, Sam.' He pointed at the dark clouds; 'We
need to head back to Hobbiton now before the bottom falls out of those
clouds.'

Sam looked to where he was pointing, 'You're probably right, Mr. Frodo,
as those clouds aren't lookin' a wee bit friendly. Just let me get my tools
together and we'll be off as quick as lightening.'

Not two minutes later while Sam was still gathering his tools did the
wind began to blow briskly, so briskly in fact it caused the loose papers
in Frodo's hands to blow into the nearby stream.

'O sticklebacks!' Frodo exclaimed, hurrying to the edge to grab the
sopping wet papers from the stream.

'Mr. Frodo?' said Sam walking up behind Frodo.

'O, Sam, do help me get these papers out of the stream before they are
completely ruined,' Frodo said snatching out another paper. As Sam knelt
beside him, Frodo explained, 'These are some of the Elvish translations
Uncle Bilbo was working on and when he sees how I've ruined them..."

'O I'm sure Mr. Bilbo will understand when you explain what happened,'
Sam said, pulling the last of the sopping parchment from the stream.

Frodo took the papers from him, trying the dry the running, wet ink
with the end of his sleeve, 'You don't understand, Sam, I wasn't supposed
to have these papers in the first place!'